


knryip

by vulturer



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Body Horror, F/F, Gross, Horrorterrors - Freeform, Polyamory, Tentacles, Transformation, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-01
Updated: 2012-04-01
Packaged: 2017-11-02 21:45:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulturer/pseuds/vulturer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I͡'͘v̸̸e̵͜͞ ̕b̀́͢e̵e͝n̢ ͡͠h͜͏av̵̶i̴nǵ͡ ͠s͟t͘ŕ̨a͏̴nge͘̕ ̶d́͜r̵̀ę̧̡am̧s̸͜ ̷́l͞͏a̢t͏̢él̸y̸͡.</p>
            </blockquote>





	knryip

**Author's Note:**

> A short fill that veered way off of [this polypacked prompt](http://polyprompt.dreamwidth.org/4596.html?thread=4084#cmt4084).

______________________________________________

  


_June 12, 2011_

I've been having strange dreams lately. Sufficiently Lovecraftian, but primarily due to the fact that they are too far removed from the source to trust. The imagery is obfuscated through layers of something intangible, like fogged fluidic glass. That, or I just haven't had enough sleep. It's difficult to determine the content of these fragments when they're mostly just ambiguous shapes barely illuminated. They may very well be nothing. Creepy, but pedestrian. Certainly unreliable. 

\- - -

_July 18, 2011_

Does a dream qualify as a secondhand account? Placing so much significance on visions conjured through sleep seems hasty, despite my sportive devotion to doing just that. The uncanny recurrence is noteworthy... Still, I'd rather visit the city in person to judge for myself.

\- - -

_September 2, 2011_

I take it back. These nightmares feel real.

\- - -

_September 8, 2011_

\- like a page ripped out of the Grimoire  
\- lots of tentacles, of course (wonder what John would say to that...)  
\- incredibly vast??? hard to judge relative size  
\- one primary figurehead, white, enormous  
\- loud  
\- shitty notes, expand later

\- - -

_October 6, 2011_

The dreams are increasingly more vivid and horrific with each night. As if they were coming closer, into clearer focus. Or perhaps I'm simply adjusting to the dark? (Ugh, cliché much?) Waking up is like pleasant drunkenness quickly fading away, to be replaced by the sharp sobriety. Yet, the dream state feels strangely more acute? Hard to explain. Submission seems to yield results, however. "Submission" isn't really the right word... Embracing? Eh. Close enough.

\- - -

_October 25, 2011_

Woke up in the middle for the first time. Couldn't move. Limbs felt viscous. Sleep paralysis?

\- - -

_October 30, 2011_

Woke up again. Fucking starving. I'm starting to have waking hallucinations as well, which is proving to be a thrilling guessing game of "How Much of Rose is A Cephalopod Today?" 

John: 48%  
Jade: 33%  
Dave: 666% 

Dick. 

\- - -

  
_November 2, 2011_  


78%

\- - -

  
_November 11, 2011_  


red ships in the sky  
invasion?

\- - -

  
_November 14, 2011_  


12 packets brown rice  
3 cans potato soup  
5 bags of beef jerky  
small can of almonds  
box of chai  
gallon of water

\- - -

  
_November 26, 2011_  


Contact with John severed, internet and phone lines dead.  
Still no sign of Jade or Dave.  
Can't find mom anywhere, likely escaped.

\- - -

  
_November 30, 2011_  


I can't tell if the dreams are from fever, fear, or if some monster collective has taken residence here. Shifting into a shapeless thing demands more energy, but it feels far safer than the human body. The cold doesn't bother me quite as much. I can escape into holes the size of a quarter.

\- - -

_December 4, 2011_

  


\- - -

  
_dec 17, 2011_  


alien creatures seven feet tall orange horns grey skin buglike  
WTF?

\- - -

  
_dec 2011_  


aliens definitely hostile

\- - -

  
_December 20, 2011_   


Scratch that. Guess they're not all bad.

\- - -

She clings to Aradia's back dripping oil and saltwater, staying in place by tying her slippery limbs into knots. She's exhausted, still not acclimated to moving in waves instead of steps. She concentrates on herself, sticking her suckers to Aradia's skin lightly, only enough to leave little hickey bruises in swirling pointillist maps; her territory, her comfort.

The transformation is still a little painful, but it's gotten easier with practice. She can melt her bones and bleed her organs in just a few seconds now. House rules are as follows: lock all windows and doors, pull blackout curtains closed, stuff towels in the gaps for smoke and soundproofing, and corral her into the bathroom where she is forbidden from leaving until all of the throes have washed down the drain. The alien girls take turns watching over her as she shifts and oozes. Toiletries are shoved underneath the sink and the chipped shelves above the toilet are reserved for books. In exchange for safety, she gives them a scare tactic.

The looks on their faces, the girls _and_ their targets... In ambush, she runs forward a tiny, pretty slip with the coloring of a graveyard ghost in the wake of a chainsaw's roar and a girlish cackle that makes all of this _fun._ If the primary strike is successful, then she dashes around and loots pockets, but more often than not she dissolves onto the ground and lashes at heels with her whipcord limbs. She's fast in this form, rolling in oily vapor streaks around hands and necks while her rescuers get as much intel as they can, and then they break in a mad dash for safety, breathing hard and grinning. She swells and pulses in the open air, listening to the quiet feet that hit the ground running all the way home. 

Once inside, Aradia tells Kanaya and Terezi to hurry and seal the cracks as she dumps her passenger on the living room floor. Rose hits the grimy wood with a wet splash and she's so high with adventure that she just wants to touch _everything._ She oozes out and slithers along the floor, shivering as Aradia laughs and tries to catch her. She's shouting something, something musical and lilting, and Rose lashes out to catch her voice, climbing up the table to get closer. Terezi passes through her cloud and snatches piles of books, pulling away and Rose doesn't like that, she wants to be closer, wants them to be inside her. Arms scoop her up and voices echo through her smokeflesh, voices made from tight cords in slender throats. She wants, spreading herself throughout the whole house, sublimating into a foggy black that stems from her center held close to Kanaya's chest.

It takes all three of them to carry her to the bathroom; she's slippery, dripping salty slime like a cluster of hagfish, and she squirms in their arms. Their conversation is like sweet morsels to her and she wraps around their shoulders and waists and touches at their lips. They are beautiful, grotesque and tall, with gnarled fingers and toes, crooked teeth, yellow eyes. She brushes against the marks on their ribs and they hug her close. She feels their hearts pounding behind bones.

They stumble and fall into the bathroom laughing, caught up in a writhing knot of phantom squid arms. Kanaya and Terezi bury their faces into her, kissing and humming as she shudders, shocked by the coldness of the tile and the coldness of their skin. Kanaya is an ice bath of pale light, coursing with dead blood and hunger. Terezi is pure delight. Her kisses are more giggling breaths against Rose.

Aradia, though... Aradia is warm. She kneels before her lovers and beams with love and some twisted glee. She leans forward and touches Rose so lightly while Kanaya and Terezi hold her in place. A hissing sound escapes through her teeth and Rose lashes out at it, curls around Aradia's back and horns, tries to escape and wrap around them to consume them. Still that sound, that gust of wind through dead branches, the crash of ocean waves against black jagged rocks.

 _"Shhh,"_ Aradia hushes and laughs gently as Rose's arms fall away from her. "That's a good girl."

Terezi squeals happily as Rose lethargically reforms in her lap, licking a long stripe across a rippling stomach as the dark fog settles around them. Kanaya's half-lidded eyes wander from girl to girl and she sucks in a breath as Rose leans back into her. She presses her nose in Rose's sodden hair and breathes slowly.

Rose comes back mumbling drunken gibberish, gurgling with laughter. She paws at her face and reaches out to touch Aradia with paling arms, moaning and wiggling as Terezi laps at her chest and Kanaya pricks her neck with gentle fangs, sucking up a polite amount of horror blood. Under their lips and in their arms, she is weak and pliant and blissful. Transforming into a creature from her deepest nightmares is heavenly, but this moment always feels like coming home.

She looks up at Aradia, panting and glassy eyed, covered in the residue from the other side of herself. She's too small against them, a waterlogged doll in the arms of grey insects. Aradia wonders what the other human creatures look like in the embrace of their guardians. She decides that they can't be anywhere near as beautiful. She takes a weak, slippery hand and brings it up to her lips. With a grin, she whispers, "Welcome back."

\- - -

  
_June 12, 2012_   


I'm feeling much better.


End file.
